A Reason To Carry On
by horseluvr4
Summary: A long overdue celebratory Tartie fic, because they are endgame after all! How did Tina and Artie find their way back to each other? What happened after the wedding and that choir room lunch date? Set after S6E8 "A Wedding", and before the flash forward in the finale.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: As always, I don't own Glee.

A/N: I haven't written for over a year, and I didn't intend on writing another Glee fic, but I started writing this after my Tartie feels exploded all over the last ever episodes of the show and it turned into a longer fic than I initially thought. I genuinely never expected they would end up as endgame, because the writers hadn't given me any hope in such a long time (I was happy just to get their duets!), but I've always been (and will be) a shipper, all the way! Sorry for all my readers who want to read my Grey's Anatomy fics…Artie/Tina was one of my first ships, guys.

* * *

To Artie, Tina was an enigma of contradictions. Maybe it was because the very first time he had met her, he had hesitated at introducing himself because of her screaming don't-talk-to-me clothing (the girl wore black studs and combat boots, in his defence), only to find that his "hi, I'm Artie" was met with a shy smile that erased all traces of the hard, indifferent look in her eyes. He learned quickly that, contrary to her school self, Tina was very opinionated, and liked to talk about anything and everything. But most importantly, he learned that Tina kicked up a big fuss over the smallest things – to his eternal amusement, she could easily start sulking after finding one math problem she couldn't solve by declaring herself "utterly incapable" of math – but she never seemed to make a big deal over the most important things.

It wasn't long after they became friends and started hanging out after school that Tina first laid her hand on his arm, and she never seemed to pick up on how rare a gesture it was, for him to get touched by anyone apart from his family. Once, he casually slipped it into a carefully constructed conversation, to gage her reaction, and she only responded with a puzzled frown and a simple "Why shouldn't I?" that floored him. He laughed it off then, but after she left his house that evening, he laid in bed going over and over the conversation, picking it apart in his mind. There had been no pity in her eyes, as he had feared, but only genuine puzzlement over why no one else touched him. She never brought it up afterwards, but a few mornings after, she draped her arm over his shoulder as she was pushing him down the hallway. He twisted to look up at her, his hands twitching in his lap, but she looked back at him as innocently as always, with an affectionate smile that was a touch wider than normal, and that was that.

There was also that time after Tina and Mike had just started going out, when Rachel went on a gender-equality rampage for a week, insisting on re-arranging "Dancing Through Life" from Wicked as a potential Sectionals number for the girls to take the lead on. Artie cringed upon receiving the sheet music that was thrust in his face by a Rachel with a manic gleam in her eyes as she yammered away about potentially flooring the judges with their determination to subvert the norm. Sure enough, once they gave up and started singing the song, the awkward glances that he had thought he'd finally banished with their "Proud Mary" number a year ago were back in the choir room as Quinn stumbled on Nessa's lines, eyes flitting nervously to him. He shrugged and tried to look like he didn't care as she quickly glossed over "It's because I'm in this chair and you felt sorry for me, isn't that right?", her cheeks turning red, but it was really Tina stealing the next line from Brittany without missing a beat – "It's because you are so beautiful!" – while miming swooning with one hand to her forehead and an arched look in his direction, risking a death glare from Santana, that made his smile genuine and his shoulders loosen. She had somehow always known exactly what to do to make him feel better without being told how, and that was one of the reasons why he decided to suck up his pride about getting dumped and suggested to her after practice that they should start their Tuesday lunches again.

Which was why, when Tina gathered him, Blaine, and Puck together before Santana and Brittany's wedding for permission from "her best boys" to elaborately announce her intention to propose to Mike, Artie wasn't worried. Much.

At least, that was what Artie kept telling himself to keep the nausea down as he got ready for the wedding he was supposed to be focusing 100% on as the wedding planner (what had Brittany been thinking anyway, giving him the job? The only saving grace was that he got to film the wedding, so his directing skills weren't entirely wasted). He straightened his bow tie one last time in the mirror and sighed, looking himself over in his tux.

What if she actually went through with her insane plan? And worse, what if Mike actually accepted?

 _"I have my concerns, but if this is what you really want, then of course I support you."_

Even in his shock, he'd managed to choose his words so carefully, so much so that Puck had cornered him afterwards with a straightforward "I didn't know you were still into her, man", and a commiserating clap on the back that had, quite frankly, _hurt_ , though perhaps less so than that bittersweet feeling of holding Tina in his arms just after giving her his blessing to marry another man. Hell, if Puck had noticed after five measly minutes in the same room as them, he had no idea why Tina was still oblivious to his feelings about her.

Artie had thought that she would finally notice that they were both single at the same time (he shuddered still at the disappointment of that chill-inducing moment in their senior year when he had realised she was singing her prom proposal song to Blaine, of all people, when he had hoped, just maybe...). But for all that she had been the first to notice him out of everyone in Glee, she sure had forgotten him completely now. _Friend-zoned,_ he thought bitterly to himself.

For his part, he had never been able to shake her off completely. Sure, he'd tried to give things a proper go with Brittany before it all blew up in his face, and once it became evident that Tina was in it for the long haul with Mike, he had tried to move on, and to be a good boyfriend to Sugar and later to Kitty. But Artie couldn't deny that a small part of him had selfishly hoped, when Tina told him she had been waitlisted for Brown, that they would end up in New York together: maybe in the city of dreams, outside Lima, they would bridge the gap that had been growing between them for the last few years. Maybe he would finally have that elusive second chance at showing her that he could be a better, more attentive boyfriend now.

But he couldn't be unhappy for her, of course, when she told him that she had gotten in after all; couldn't begrudge the fantasy that had again been ripped from him when her happiness had shone so brightly. So he had helped her pack, and listened to her chattering about Providence, and waved her goodbye. All he could do was tell her feebly to visit him and that he would try to visit her as often as he could, and he wasn't sure if she had heard him in her excitement.

Then, every time she _had_ visited, it had always been related to something important, something bigger than them – Rachel's opening night blues, Mercedes' record deal, Sam moving back to Ohio, Kurt breaking off the engagement, consoling Kurt and Blaine who were both wrecks, Blaine dropping out of NYADA. It had never felt like just them, and he loved his friends, but sometimes, he had just wanted to scream with how he just wanted one moment to bring up the question of them without anything to distract her.

And now they were here, where he was feeling too much too late, again.

There was a knock on the dressing room door, and he schooled his features, tacking on his trademark smile that only looked a shade fake.

"Come in," he called, checking that he had his video camera in his bag hanging behind his chair before turning to face the doorway, ready to leave.

The door opened, revealing Tina, and his breath left him with a whoosh.

She looked stunning.

He tried not to let his jaw drop, but he couldn't drag his eyes off her. Of course he had seen the dresses that the bridesmaids were going to wear – he thought vaguely that Brittany had even asked for his approval at some point, to which he had hummed a non-committal response – but even so, he was never prepared for how she always somehow managed to seem extra graceful dressed up for special occasions.

She was fidgeting a little, tugging at the hem of her pink dress, in a way that reminded him of another dress in a lighter shade of pink and a piano, many years ago.

"Ready for one last spot check before the guests arrive?" she asked him brightly, and he was brought back to the present.

"Yeah," he said, relieved that his voice hadn't cracked and betrayed how off-kilter he felt.

She stepped back, keeping the door open for him.

"I'm a bit worried about Brittany, she kept sending me these panicked messages until about twenty minutes ago and now, radio silence," he said lightly as they took the back route into the main hall of the barn, trying to bring his scattered thoughts together.

"Oh, that! At least you only got texts," Tina scoffed, rolling her eyes, "she dispatched Rachel, Mercedes and me to find her a lizard and a spider for good luck, so you know, you had the better end of the deal."

Artie raised his eyebrows at her, and she shrugged. "You know how she's been. I bet Santana's calming her down, we didn't bother telling Brittany that that their dressing rooms are only separated by a partition."

"I assume you all just gave up?" he asked, laughing.

"Yeah. We just figured we'd lay low for a bit and then go back to see if she's calmed down. She doesn't actually care if she gets all that stuff anyway, I'm sure she'll have more things to ask for even if we did manage to find them."

"Sensible," he nodded.

Tina opened the side door into the hall, and he rolled through, smiling at her in thanks. _The barn really looks atmospheric with the flowers and twinkling lights in place,_ he thought approvingly, and he almost missed her next words.

"Plus, I gave her my underwear, so I think I've done my fair share of sacrifice for the bride."

He choked on air.

 _Did she just say…?_

"I'm sorry, you what?" Artie asked, staring at her disbelievingly, and Tina blushed.

"She was having a freak-out about having nothing blue and borrowed to wear! No one else had anything blue, and it's more traditional than anything else she's been talking about doing for luck," she said defensively, crossing her arms. "You weren't there, she was really going all Bridezilla on us," she added darkly, and he grimaced in sympathy.

"But what are you wearing then?"

The words fell out before he could take them back, and he instantly wanted to dig a hole and die in is embarrassment. _Classic, Abrams. Classic word-vomit._

She flushed.

"I'm, um, not wearing any?"

He was saved from coming up with an actual response by the arrival of the catering staff. As they were swept up in questions of when to come in to re-decorate the hall with tables for the reception, he tried to push the conversation to the back of his mind.

 _She's your best friend! Mind. Out. Of. The. Gutter._

It was ridiculously hard to keep reminding himself that.

Judging by how she kept throwing him looks across the hall where she was showing people to their seats and blushing, he wasn't the only one having a hard time forgetting their conversation, either. 


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I haven't actually decided how long this is going to be yet. If you have any thoughts, please do review!

Disclaimer: I don't own _Glee_. Obviously.

* * *

The wedding had been beautiful, even if Artie had been beyond shocked when Brittany had appeared on Kurt's arm and Santana on Blaine's. Still, he had managed to finish the song with Mercedes without missing a note, and the ceremony had gone off without a hitch. He wouldn't deny that their vows had made him wipe away some tears, the sincerity in their voices striking a chord deep inside him. Kurt had been one of his first friends, and he had since become better friends with the other three.

Now the reception was well and truly underway, and the exuberance in the room was tangible, an amplified version of the giddiness after winning Nationals. It was almost enough to wrap him up, but Artie couldn't seem to keep his eyes away for long from the doorway that Tina and Mike had disappeared nonchalantly through, ten minutes ago.

 _"I can honestly say that Mike is my best friend again, and he knows me better than anyone else."_

He winced, remembering how much hearing _that_ had hurt, especially when he could still vividly remember the heartfelt kiss they had shared when she had told him when they were dating that he would always know her the best.

It felt like an hour later when she finally emerged.

If Artie craned his neck to see if they were holding hands, well, he wasn't going to admit it to anyone.

To his surprise, Tina caught his eyes almost instantly from across the room, as if she had been scanning the crowd for him. He cocked his head, his heart hammering.

 _Well?_

 _No go._

He tried to look sad on her behalf, but he couldn't deny that that slight, dejected shake of her head meant _everything_.

* * *

Tina grinned at Artie over the loud music, and he grinned back at her, marvelling at the moment. They were _dancing_. Of course, they had had small moments of dancing together in rehearsals and even in competitions since, but it still amazed him that they had come so far from the days when the mere mention of dancing would make him cringe; it had seemed so insurmountable to him back then in the early days of Glee club, and he had even snapped at her that time she had suggested they dance together. He tried to imitate Kurt's shoulder shimmy that he was rocking as usual from the makeshift stage with Blaine, and he could make out Tina's giggle.

The music suddenly came to an end with a round of cheers and applause, and he didn't register how it had switched to a slow song at first, caught up in her beaming smile.

"Dance with me?" Artie asked as she caught her breath, swallowing nervously and holding out a hand to her. She didn't hesitate before slipping her hand into his, and he gave it a small tug, pulling her close. Before he understood what she was doing, she had tucked herself onto his lap sideways, sliding one arm around his neck and still clasping his left hand with her right. He gulped, not having expected to be faced with her so up close, and tried to distract himself from how nice she smelled by spinning them around slowly with his free arm.

They stayed silent for a moment, her head under his chin.

"I finally got my dance," he heard her murmur, and he stopped his spinning, his mind whirring.

He gathered up his nerve to look down at her and their eyes met. She looked uncharacteristically shy again, taking him back to that moment in their freshman year after he had told her he was fine without dancing, that he had accepted it, that he would never be able to dance as gracefully as her, that it was enough that she could, evidently overdoing it because she wasn't buying it. The sheen of barely contained tears in her eyes at his words had almost done him in too.

 _"But I want to dance with you."_

She interlaced their fingers, curling her palm around his, and he knew from the tender look in her eyes that she was thinking about that day too.

Without the girl he was holding in his arms, he would never have joined the circle of Goth friends. They would never have dared them to try out for Glee, and without the urge to impress her, he would never have said yes. He would never have been on the football team or tried to go for a solo, content to add runs in the background, without her insistence that they mattered too, not just Rachel. He would never have tried to look at other passions he had, and he would never have dreamt so big, even if impossibly, as to buy tap shoes. He would never have taken that first directing gig that Mr Shue had asked him to do without her prompt encouragement in front of everybody, even when they weren't on as good terms as they had been in the past. He would never have learnt that sometimes telling the hard truth was what friendship demanded, and how even in the midst of the bitterest arguments, he could still rely on them to be there when he really needed them to be.

He tried to bite back the wave of affection that crashed over him at the thought of how she had shaped so much of who he was now, and he dropped his gaze to their hands, terrified that she could read everything in his eyes.

"Artie?"

He hummed in reply, fiddling with his wheel.

"Do you think that we could've really made it? If it hadn't been for Mike, and Brittany, and all the rest of it?"

Her voice was soft but he heard every word clearly.

"I like to think we would've," he replied finally, trying to keep his voice steady. He looked at her, noticing the slight melancholy in her contemplative smile. It gave him a sudden burst of hope.

Was it finally time? On one hand, it wasn't great timing to ask her out when she had been considering getting married to the man she had left him for, especially when he had turned her down, but it seemed too good an opportunity to pass up. Knowing his luck, he might not get another chance to talk about them when everyone else was so distracted, for once. Was there ever such a thing as the best moment?

In the end, the song faded away, and the upbeat bass rhythm that followed cut his musings short.

"Tina!" He heard Brittany's voice shouting over the track, and he mentally groaned.

"We need you for this number, we rehearsed it, remember?" Brittany called from the rapidly clearing floor, and Tina got to her feet with a sigh.

"The bride calls," she said with a laugh, and Artie had barely enough time to nod and wave before she was gone, swept away by an enthusiastic Sugar.

 _You_ waved _, Abrams?_ He almost face-palmed himself. _You're on fine form today._

He consoled himself with the thought that it hadn't been the right time, anyway. But it did make him think that maybe he'd been going at this the wrong way. Maybe he should have been making the right time instead of waiting for it to happen.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Sorry it's been so long! It took ages to get my writing muse back. This is the last chapter, and I hope you like it. Let me know what you think! I do not own the rights to _Glee_ or to Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros' song, of course. I can't believe it's been a year exactly since the finale aired, and it took me so long to finish this, which I started back then...

* * *

It had been the memory of how Tina had felt in his arms again that had spurred Artie into laying out the food that he had fretted over in the kitchen all morning on an improvised table in the choir room. He had scrutinised the picnic with critical eyes, wanting the vibe to be just right. He had even made some calls to ensure that no one would be using the choir room at that time.

But of course, Tina had waltzed in with that delighted smile, and she had looked so gorgeous with her hair curled just so, plastic champagne glass dangling elegantly between her fingers, that he had wimped out and gone all Monica and Chandler on her. It could've gone worse – at least she had actually seemed to like the idea! – but it hadn't quite captured the whole immediate "would you go out with me again?" element that he'd been envisioning. Even if he'd managed to throw in the "that's how you miss out on finding the perfect guy for you" line.

(Still, she _had_ called it romantic.)

(Hold up, had she _actually_ agreed to marry him?)

* * *

They were out at a small jazz club in Cleveland, where Mercedes had decided to surprise one of her fans for her birthday at her birthday party, since she was in Lima for the wedding. Artie had, of course, tried to argue his way out of it.

 _"You've got to come with us, it'll be fun. I'll just sing a song or two and then we'll be out of there," Mercedes cajoled with a frown, her arms crossed._

 _"Her friend only invited you on Twitter, she didn't invite all_ your _friends," Artie shot back, fidgeting. A night in a cramped, sweaty bar with little room to move around didn't sound that pleasant._

 _"I'm sure she'll let us all in, they're hired the place for the night. And I am her favourite singer ever apparently," Mercedes preened slightly at this, "and besides, it's good publicity. My manager says I need to get with the times, everyone else is doing it. Didn't you see how popular that Maroon 5 video was when they gatecrashed all those weddings? It's not like they complained that it wasn't just Adam Levine!"_

 _"That was because James Valentine and the others are, believe it or not, actually part of the band, Mercedes," Artie said drily. She rolled her eyes._

 _"That's not the point. Anyway, it's the last night that the rest of us are going to be here together, now that the newlyweds are on their honeymoon. It's kind of nice to prolong the feeling of being in high school together again, you know? Who knows when the next time will be?"_

 _She had a point there._

 _"Plus, I'm reliably informed that there's an open bar," Mercedes added, and he sighed, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. He'd forgotten how exhausting it was to argue with Mercedes—for every argument he produced, she was bound to have twenty._

 _"Fine, fine, I'll go." He half-laughed at her triumphant expression._

So that was how Artie found himself huddled on a chair at the bar, his wheelchair tucked around the corner. After all Mercedes' reassurances, he had been right and he had immediately assessed that there wasn't enough space for him to manoeuvre around. _At least the bar stools have backs on them and rings around the bottom so I don't slip off,_ he thought with a touch of bitterness as he played with his bottle of beer absentmindedly.

He surveyed the happy crowd, mostly girls, who were dancing to Mercedes' upbeat single. The birthday girl had flipped out as expected, and welcomed them all to her celebrations with over enthusiastic hugs and shrieks. Puck was dancing off to the side with Rachel, who had promised to be on her best behaviour and not steal the microphone, and he could see Sugar buying an intimidated-looking guy a drink at the far end of the bar. Kitty had disappeared to a house party after a few songs, dragging Jane and Rodrick with her. Sam was dancing near the stage, stealing glances at Mercedes whenever he thought she wasn't looking.

He took a swig of his beer, trying not to look too obviously for the pair he was most curious about.

Mike and Tina had been dancing together ever since Mercedes had sauntered on stage, blithely dismissing the disgruntled DJ.

 _"When I was with Mike I was the happiest I've ever been."_

Even after his dismissal of her proposal—the retelling of which he had coaxed out of her with wine and ice cream—she was still on good terms with him, without throwing any diva fits.

 _"I just feel so guilty and embarrassed that I put him on the spot like that," Tina said sheepishly, staring down at the rapidly melting tub of mint chocolate chip in her hand. "He's a good guy, Artie."_

He couldn't help but think that Mike's glances at Tina were a touch too adoring for someone who had shot her down a few days ago.

(Not that he was complaining. He'd take mixed signals over their engagement any day.)

Since when had "I'll just sing a song or two and we can get out of there" turned into a whole set? He supposed he should've known better, knowing Mercedes' penchant for being appreciated. She normally hid it better than Rachel, but they were both kindred spirits in some ways.

And _really_ , since when did Mike get a third chance, when he hadn't even merited a second?

(Not that he was bitter.)

(Hell, he was totally bitter.)

 _"I let Mike get away and it was the biggest mistake of my life."_

He scowled.

And here _he_ was, drinking alone. He knew he had-hell, they all had-changed after high school, but sometimes he still felt exactly the same Artie he had been, especially when he was surrounded by the Glee club. It was as if everyone slipped back into their old selves here. The Rachel, Sam, Santana, Kurt, and Blaine that gathered for Monday dinners in the loft seemed so distant, almost a caricature of adulthood. Or were they a caricature of youth here, stuck in the past?

"You look too serious for a party."

Tina's voice startled him out of his philosophical musings. He twisted to look at her, slipping lithely onto the stool next to him. He drank in how everything about her was elegant, from the way her long hair fell in gentle waves around her face to the way her black glittery top and jeans clung to her curves, her feet arched in sinfully tall stilettos. He wondered if they hurt. She had certainly complained about wearing heels before. Perhaps this was part of her adulthood, a mark of Rhode Island changing her.

There was an awkward beat when he realised she was waiting for an answer and he hesitated a second too long, as she turned to the barman who had suddenly appeared to ask for a rum and Coke. Artie bristled slightly at the way the barman leered at her as he fixed her drink and set it down in front of her. Did his fingers just linger too long so they could brush hers? He sent the barman a warning look for good measure. He wasn't Mike. He could glare without repercussions.

"Mercedes sure seems to be having fun," Tina said, propping her elbow on the counter and leaning her chin on her hand. Her pose gave him a clear view down her top and Artie looked quickly away, blushing.

"I knew she couldn't resist the lure of an open microphone and stage," he agreed, trying to focus on the conversation at hand.

Her gaze turned wistful. "Did I ever tell you I was called back for an audition that day that Rachel had her diva fit just before opening night of _Funny Girl_ and stopped leaving her bedroom?"

His head jerked at her soft question. She hadn't.

"The casting director was saying something about how they wanted to be diverse and represent 'the population of New York'" – she drew quotation marks around the words, pulling a face – "and then he asked me if I could do accents. And I knew what he was really asking, so I just hung up on him."

Artie gaped at her.

"I couldn't. I just couldn't. And then I went back to Rachel's bedroom, where she just had her perfect role handed to her and she was refusing to perform it, where she was refusing her talent. And I didn't tell anyone." She stared down into her glass.

"But the worst thing was that I kept thinking about how I knew my CV wasn't very strong, and how maybe, I shouldn't have hung up on him. Maybe I should've just taken it, if only to have something to bulk it out with. Who cares if it's just a dumb Asian role, huh? I mean, it's not there are that many mainstream Asian actresses out there with roles that don't play on jokes on their accents, or their ethnicity. They're always defined by their looks, and they never get to play just the pretty girl."

She briskly tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her ear and took a long sip.

Artie reached out to cover her chilled fingers. "You're better than that, Tee," he said seriously, willing her to look at him, "and you should always practice asking for what you want out of your life. And I know you, you don't want it. Your gut instinct was that you didn't want it, and you should listen to it."

Her fingers twitched under his.

"Besides, I'd cast you as the pretty girl any day."

Her eyes shot up to meet his, taking in his blush. He hadn't thought he would have the guts to say it, but apparently his treacherous mouth was racing ahead of his mind tonight.

"Speaking as an objective director and not a friend?" she challenged archly, and he mentally winced at the word 'friend'.

"Speaking as a totally objective director," Artie agreed, draining his glass to disguise his disappointment.

Tina was silent for a moment.

"And are you?" she asked after a beat. He cocked his head quizzically at her, so she elaborated.

"Are you practicing asking for what you want out of your life?"

He shifted in his seat to steal a look sideways at her. There was something hopeful in her obsidian eyes that he thought he recognised from a long time ago, when she was still in the habit of looking at him fondly like she thought he could do impossible things. Like she thought he was capable of anything.

His heart lurched.

Was this the moment?

 _"Look at Kurt and Blaine and how spontaneous they were, and how everything just worked out. I wish just for once that could be me."_

"I thought I was, but it turns out that asking your ex-girlfriend if she would ever consider taking you back is harder than you thought. Especially when she keeps going after your mutual friends and asking for your opinion," he blurted out in one breath.

It took more nerve than facing his brief solos at all their Glee competitions combined to not look away from Tina.

"Artie," she said softly, and a shiver went down his back at her reverential tone. He had always thought his name had sounded best in her melodic voice. "I didn't know you still felt that way. It's been years, Artie."

"Yeah well, I meant it when I said I would never have broken up with you," Artie muttered, feeling like he was going to be sick. He caught the bartender's eye and tapped his empty bottle. They sat in silence as the bartender popped open another beer and slid it towards him.

He took a fortifying sip as his mind raced, weighing the pros and cons of letting it slide and blaming the alcohol for nostalgia. Would he regret not saying anything? He pictured going back to New York and the waiting he would inevitably do before getting the chance to talk to her again without their friends around, and for what? For a chance just like this one? He'd watched so many films, read so many scripts, and scoffed at the obvious turning points, but he suddenly had a newfound sympathy for the oblivious characters. It was much harder to identify it when you were potentially faced with one, he decided.

He thought back to his past self in the choir room, blithely telling Tina to grab the moment and run with it. Well, he'd already gone and made a fool of himself.

He ran with it.

"I think about you, us, a lot. We were kids back then, and I was the idiot who didn't text you that summer, even if I was the idiot who was head over heels for you and didn't know how to deal with it. I like to think I've gotten better at that, though clearly I still somehow lose my head around you and end up making inappropriate comments but I…"

Artie trailed off shakily when Tina laid her hand on his tense arm, clutching his new beer like a lifeline.

"Ever since our picnic lunch, I've been thinking about what you said," she said quietly, and he thought there was a hint of nerves underlying her words, "and the thought crossed my mind that maybe I've been going after men I knew who would be safe. Because I didn't have a shot with Blaine, and Mike," she paused, a faraway look in her eyes, "there wasn't a chance he could hurt me because I didn't let him close enough to. Even when we were dating, we never argued much because there wasn't anything to argue about. I never raised an argument after the first one we had about his mom because I realised I was the only one in it. He never really pushed me to argue back."

She smiled wryly at him, and his heart started double-timing at the warmth in her smile.

"But you…you'd never let me do that. You give as good as you get. I still remember when you tore me a new one in the hallway when we were arguing about valedictorian."

He half-grimaced, half-smiled at the memory. "In my defence, I didn't say a word about the alien invading your body theory for the better part of a whole year," he argued feebly.

"See? You're still arguing," she pointed out smugly, and he deflated. "Anyway, that just proves my point. You let me work things out, but you let me know when things get out of hand. You make me see outside the box, even when I don't want to." She leaned forward slightly in her chair. "You're as stubborn as I am, and I know I need that. And I know we've gotten better at apologising and talking through it when we're both being too stubborn."

It was beginning to sound like – "Hold up. Are you saying yes?!"

She giggled at his disbelieving tone.

"Yes," she said simply, and he stared at her for a beat in wonder before what she was saying resonated in his brain.

"You could've just led with that instead of giving me a heart attack! You realise you were just preaching to the choir, right, about how compatible we are?" Artie joked, feeling the jittery aftershock from actually asking her out again still bubbling under his skin.

Tina shoved him in response, still grinning.

"Just saying," he shrugged, nudging her shoulder with his playfully.

"This is a shout-out to all my best friends and new friends in the room – sing along if you know the words!" Mercedes' magnified voice blared out from the speakers nearby, and Artie grinned as the familiar track started playing.

 _"Alabama, Arkansas, I do love my Ma and Pa_

 _Not the way that I do love you_

 _Well, holy moly me oh my_

 _You're the apple of my eye_

 _Girl I've never loved one like you"_

Tina shifted her chair so that she could lean back against him to look at the stage, and Artie wrapped one arm around her shoulder, bracing himself against the counter with the other. She sighed happily and shuffled closer to him.

 _"Man oh man you're my best friend_

 _I scream it to the nothingness_

 _There ain't nothing that I need"_

"Remember the Homecoming bonfire?" she murmured against him, and he sang the next verse, _their_ verse, quietly, feeling content as the song swelled.

She twisted to look at him, and he couldn't help but wonder at the turn of events tonight, ending up with Tina in his arms again. It had taken them years to get to this point, but maybe that had been why. Maybe they had needed all those years to mature before trying again. Maybe this time, they wouldn't be so quick to give up.

Her eyes were full of a similar promise when she leaned in, her long hair coming untucked from behind her ear, and he was suddenly reminded of a sunny afternoon in Ohio.

Their lips brushed once, twice, and he smiled into the kiss as he had that day in the cold shadow of the school bus.

 _"Home is wherever I'm with you."_


End file.
